Hallowed Ground, An Alex Coven story
by DanteJayCross
Summary: Hello, my name is Alexander Ipswich Matthew Coven, I would advise against conjuring it. I am a Wizard. You know, magic, fortune telling, demons, were-wolfs, vampires- don't look at me like that, I'm not crazy and I'm not being funny. T rating because I'm not sure everything that will happen.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I leaped out of the road as an oncoming car tried to nail me across its bonnet, skidding on the wet pavement in front of the British Museum. I looked around for signs of life, anyone who might have seen how I arrived, but other than the driver who was already speeding off, the road was empty.

Accidents like that were how Inquisitions started. I breathed a sigh of relief and pocketed Mars' hip flask, turning to the Museum. "I really shouldn't be here." I told myself as my feet brought me closer to the door.

I noticed with alarm that the door was swinging slightly ajar. I was right, they were there. They were doing- whatever they had planned tonight. I stepped closer and pushed it lightly. It swung open, revealing the British Museum in all its night time darkness.

I looked around, and jumped back in startled surprise. a man lay on the floor beside the door. My heart thumped in my chest as I stepped in, the strap of my bag gripped tightly in my hand. I crouched down beside the man and reached for his neck, placing two fingers on his throat. I didn't need to check, I could already feel it, I already knew; he was dead.

The only thing that I gained from touching him was a little blood on my hand and a sense of the fear and sorrow that went through him as the knife slit his throat.

My pocket began to vibrate, releasing that ancient Nokia ring tone that every phone still has to have and I jumped, letting out a small scream as I attempted to flee from my own pocket.

I landed on my rear, panting in fear, staring down at my chest. I shook my head at my foolishness and reached inside. I pulled it out and hit answer.

"Hello." I said quietly. There was static on the line, intermittent magical energies interfering with the call.

"Alex!" the voice growled. "Where are you? Are you at the museum?"

"Yeah." I whispered, standing up and starting down the corridor. I could feel the thrum of the faith that people put in the building, I could feel the light and dark of a variety of magical objects, but more importantly; I could feel magic being played with deep inside. "Sorry, Mars." I continued. "I didn't mean to, I just saw the map and the magic took effect."

"Come back, now." He demanded. I shook my coat and heard the sloshing of water. I had enough potion to get back but…

"I can't." I whispered down the phone.

"Why?" Mars asked, almost growling.

"It's happening tonight." I told him. "I'm inside the museum, I found a dead guard." He cursed. "Mars, I can feel it. I can feel it happening."

"Use the potion, I'll drive there now and do what I can to stop it."

I shook my head. "By the time you get here it might be too late." I sighed. I really didn't want to have to go in there. Sure I was foolhardy, sure I was a teenager, sure I'd love to be able to shove it in Mars face that the first time I went out into the field I saved the world, all on my own… but I wasn't stupid. I didn't want to die. "Sorry Mars, I have to try."

"Alex, what do you have with you?" He asked. "You don't have a blasting rod, you don't have a wizards staff, you have your school bag and your books."

I rounded a corner into a dimly lit area – dim light was better than I had so I took it – and found another guard. His face was torn apart, as if by an animal. I grimaced at the body and anger swelled in my chest. "You always tell me that a wizard isn't his tools, it's his knowledge." I said, stepping over the guard – careful to avoid the blood – and continuing on towards the source of the reverberations of magic. "You've given me a lot of knowledge over this past two years, Mars. I have my knowledge, I have chalk, I have half a teleportation potion, I have my shield bracelet – which you helped me make into one of the most potent protection bracelets ever – and I have my wits."

Mars was silent for a moment. "It might not be enough." He told me.

"It might have to be." I responded, pressing the off button on the phone and pocketing it again. Worst case scenario I could use my ancient brick of a phone to bludgeon the warlocks to death.

I continued through the museum, through exhibits, up some stairs – possibly several flights, I couldn't be certain in the dark – getting closer and closer to the throbbing of magic, coming across body after body of the Museum security. Some had been mauled, some had been stabbed and some had been killed with dark magic.

I stared down at the body of a guard who had been burned to death. There were no soot stains, no burn marks across the floor, he was simply engulfed in flame. It disgusted me. Magic shouldn't be used that way. Magic comes from life, from my life, from the dead guards life, from the warlocks life… Life just shouldn't be used to create death.

The anger that had swelled in my chest began to bubble as I stood and continued forward. I should have expected such dark magics but… it's hard to expect things you try not to think about.

That you try to forget.

I all but stomped through the museum until I heard the scuffling of feet. I found myself just outside the special exhibitions area near the south of the building. It was a tiny little room compared to the other exhibitions I'd walked through with only one way in or out.

I moved to the door and crouched down, reaching into my pocket for chalk. I took a breath and clamed myself. I was angry, _so_ angry, but it wasn't helpful. I wanted to walk in there and kill them, but – and I can't believe I even thought it – Mars wouldn't have approved.

Chalk, a shield bracelet, a teleportation potion, knowledge and wits.

I'd like to say I'd saved the world with less, but I was sixteen. I'd not even saved the world.

I took a breath and risked a look around the door. Three men of varying ages stood within. Two of the men stood in front of a crown, on closer inspection I recognised the crown as the crown of the Queen, on loan from the tower of London for a month before her Jubilee.

The two men looked like older and younger versions of the same man. Like a forty-year-old father and twenty-year-old son who were trying to dress alike. They had clean, well-kept black hair, slicked back and gelled to the point that I was certain that you'd be able to snap pieces off. The older of the two had grey running through the sides of his hair, but the younger's hair was completely black. They both wore dark blue pinstriped suits like something out of a nineteen-forties mafia movie.

I could feel power, dark, corrupt power emanating off of them as they eyed the crown.

"Why are you waiting?" The third man asked, growling his words with a basso depth.

He was a completely different story. His clothes were torn, his hair messed to the point of a birds nest, he had about a week's worth of stubble growing on his chin and scars criss-crossing his face and exposed chest. The only things on him that hadn't fallen to disrepair were a steel collar around his neck and a furry, hide belt about his waist.

I slipped my head back out of the room, blood draining from my face as I realised what I was looking at. A Werewolf. A Hexenwolf to be precise. A man who could transform himself into a wolf-like creature using a talisman that had been created for him by a warlock, presumably one of the two stood next to him.

There was no way I could deal with a werewolf, not and live. Even if I got the talisman off him he'd still kill me. He was bigger than me, stronger than me, probably faster. The talismans are like drugs, he'd fight to the death for it, while I'd just die fighting.

I fought the urge to piss myself with fear and edged away. I got a meter towards the next exhibition and stopped. What if this was the only chance to stop it? I didn't know what they were doing. All I knew was that after a long month of practicing and practicing on lesser faith houses they had come here to London's biggest museum, a place that so many people had put faith in that my head was literally thrumming with the pain of it.

Tonight was their big prize, whatever they wanted it couldn't be good.

What if not taking the chance meant that millions would die? Meant that Melanie would die…

"The reason we are waiting, Lycan, is because the powers of this building have not yet been contained." The elder of the two Warlocks explained. His voice snapped me out of my questions like cold water being thrown over my head. I turned back and took a breath. I looked around.

Wits, Knowledge, chalk, a teleportation potion and a powerful Shield bracelet. I could do it. And if not I'd use my death curse to take them with me anyway. Assuming I could speak. I'd rather not think about events that would stop me from being able to speak.

I crept back up the corridor and crouched by the door again. I leaned forward and drew a circle on the ground – no harm being prepared to protect yourself, right? - listening to them as they continued to speak.

"Your name is of no importance to me, _Lycan. _My father might tolerate your presence, but don't push me or we'll spend the time until he returns seeing exactly how your collar works." The elder warlock said.

"I'm not afraid of you, _brother_." The wolf growled.

"Lorem!" The Warlock growled. There was a screeching of tearing metal and then the hexenwolf screamed out, dropping to his knees. He reached for his wolf belt and transformed from a large, scruffy man to an even larger scruffier wolf. The only things that remained were his eyes and his scars. It didn't help, however, the wolf writhed on the floor, howling and whimpering in pain until the warlock spoke again. "Ipsum!"

If it weren't for the horrifying situation I'd have laughed out loud. He was using Lorum Ipsum for his spell words? If his next spell was cast with _dolor, sit _or_ amet _I might have to ignore the possibility of dying and actually let out a chuckle.

The collar reminded me of what Poppy had said about jewellery. They were enchanting jewellery to test whether their slave collars would work on something other than pure steel. From what I understand enchantments work best on the purest material. There's little purer than the Queens crown.

"You are not my brother." The older Warlock growled. "You are a beast, you will remember your place."

I took a breath and stepped away from the door. I wasn't going to get anything more out of them and I had work to do.

First, what did I know?

There were two, maybe three Warlocks and a hexenwolf in the British museum. They'd spent a good deal of the past month practicing stealing faith from buildings and were here for the main event. They were going to do the magic upon the queen's crown, if the werewolf's collar was anything to go by they'd be able to turn it into a slave bind, enslaving the queen.

Which would be bad.

Most people think that the monarchy is a pointless institution, that she has no power and therefore no function, but it's more than that, much more. It's not that she _has_ no power, it's that her power is being focussed already. She is in a constant state of power, binding a million curses from the last thousand years of attacks on British soil and holding them back. Stopping them from doing their damage to the United Kingdom. That's why she always looks so unhappy. It's a strain on the heart and mind.

If a Warlock could bind her, he could break her hold. It would be a disaster, but they had to wait for the building's power to be contained to do it. Whatever that meant.

Second, what did I need to do?

I needed to make sure they couldn't cast the faith into the jewellery; I needed to get them away from the crown.

Getting them away from the crown wouldn't be enough though. I had to make sure that they didn't go back to it, but how- Mars. Mars was on his way.

I had to stall them until he arrived.

Third, how would I get them away from the crown?

I could show myself and run, but there's every chance I wouldn't be quick enough. I could put myself in a protective circle and then make myself known… but what's to stop them from breaking it down? Sure I might be able to outlast one of them, but two? Three? There was just no way, and even if I could, why wouldn't they just have the wolf watch me and then go back to what they were doing?

I looked back down the corridor, I could create a lot of circles, jumping between them, bringing up shields and continuing. I shook my head, sighing, the wolf would catch me so easily. I needed a weapon, some way to fight back.

"Father…" A third voice, the younger warlock, said tentatively. "The Lycan has a point." There was a growl from the wolf. "Though he's too foolish to know what it is." There was contempt in the younger man's voice. "Why are we waiting?"

"Because, Shaun-" Shaun? The evil warlock was called Shaun? Really? "Your grandfather told us to."

_Shaun_ snorted. "The old fools passed beyond his years." He argued. "He's being over cautious for no reason."

"Son, you don't know everything, there are things in this world that demand caution. Your Grandfather's caution has kept him and us from the eyes of the white council for fifty years." The elder Warlock responded. There was a pause and then the man sighed. "Still… he has been longer than I expected."

I risked a look around the door again. The Wolf had shifted back to human form and was crouched to one side, not quite whimpering, but from his posture it's what I expected. The two Warlocks stared into each other's eyes, frowning. "How long are you going to allow him to control us, father."

"He doesn't control us, he protects us-"

"He needs us, he couldn't do this without us. We don't need him." The young Warlock rumbled. "We could cast this without him and remove him from the equation." I could see the ideas stir within the Warlock. The look in his eyes, caused by the possibilities his son was bringing to his mind frightened me. Maybe I didn't have as much time to work as I thought.

The elder Warlock looked up at his son and frowned. "You're young. You don't understand these things."

"I understand that you're scared to defy him." The younger said.

"Boy…" The elder rumbled, "Do not test my patience."

"That's not my intention, father. I simply wanted to point out that you have power. I can feel it, power greater than grandfather. You don't have to do as he commands." Shaun explained, walking around to his father. The indecision on the elder Warlock was intriguing. The younger was manipulating him like a professional. He placed his hand on his father's shoulder. "We can do this, Father."

He stared down at the determination in his sons eyes and, after a moment, set his jaw. "Prepare your staff." He decided. The younger Warlock grinned and I cursed, moving back out of the room.

I was out of time. Out of options. It was going to happen then and there and Mars was surely still miles away.

You remember when I said I was foolhardy, but not stupid? Yeah forget that. I stepped around the corner, into full view of the two mafia style warlocks and their pet werewolf with my arms raised.

None of them noticed me, they continued to prepare for their spell.

I looked between them all for a few moments longer before crouching and drawing a circle around myself with the chalk. I stood back up and eyed the men. "Evening." I said.

For a moment none of them reacted, as if they'd just imagined the voice, but then as one they looked up at me. The warlocks grabbed their weapons, the elder held a jewelled dagger and a blasting rod while the younger just held up his blasting rod. I kept my hands up but focussed on the circle, bringing up a shield and pouring energy into it. It wouldn't hold long, but hopefully I wouldn't need it to.

"Who are you?" the Elder of the two Warlocks said, a mixture of surprise and annoyance in his tone. "What are you doing here? How are-"

"We should kill him." The younger said. "He's just a kid, probably a thief. Nobody would know."

"That-" I said loudly, raising a hand, "wouldn't be particularly smart." I said.

The Elder frowned at me, turning to his son. "Find out how he got in."

"I walked through the front door. You didn't lock up."

"Yes I did… I-" Shaun looked from the elder to me. "How did you get by my spells?"

"Spells?" I asked, pretending I didn't know what he was talking about.

"Don't be an idiot; I can feel you doing magic right now." Shaun asked. "Answer my question."

"There were no spells." I said, honestly.

The Elder warlock stopped what he was doing and turned back to me. "What do you mean, 'there were no spells'?"

"He's lying. I put those warding spells down myself." Shaun said, turning to his father.

"I know, I saw you…"

"Maybe-" I spoke up again, lowering my hands. "They weren't set properly. I have trouble with chalk sometimes as well." Shaun opened his mouth to argue. "Or maybe your grandfather, your father, realised that you were going to turn on him and decided to leave."

The elder shook his head. "Father wouldn't do that."

"Why not? You were about to." I snorted.

The son looked from to back up at his father. "We should do this now and get out of here. We don't know what else could have got in."

"Agreed." The elder said, turning back to the crown. "We'll do this and then-"

"Don't you think it's a little odd that I'm here?" I asked. "Surely I didn't just happen to pop in for a quick root around at night on the exact same day you were attacking by chance… did I?"

The elder sighed and turned back to me. "What are you trying to say, boy?"

"Nothing. Don't worry." I said, turning away. "Just…" I turned back. "I'm sixteen years old. I figured out everything you're doing here; using the magic of faith that people have put into the building over the centuries to turn the queen's crown into a slave bind… I figured it all out and I'm not the White Council's representative in London."

The Elder frowned.

"What's he talking about?" Shaun asked.

"We don't have a lot of time."

I frowned and moved into a more comfortable position to run. I grabbed the hip flask from my pocket and downed the teleportation potion. I still had a few seconds before it took effect. "I really had hoped it wouldn't come to this." I sighed, taking a chance. They looked back at me and I charged. They raised their blasting rods and I heard them mutter their curses as I broke free of my protection circle.

I dodged around them, though it wasn't difficult. They had been startled by my sudden charge and it's hard to aim when you're in shock, and when you're trying to hit a moving target. I reached out my hand for the crown and felt it in my fingers. I gripped it tight and looked up at the wall, thinking of home.

Things don't always work out particularly well for me, I should mention that. For the second time that day my eye caught sight of a location I really didn't want to go to, and that's when the potion took effect.

I didn't go anywhere. I slammed into the wall and practically crumbled.

The poster above me was of this exhibit. I'd teleported myself to where I was.

I forced myself back to my feet before the Warlocks and the werewolf reached me and spun around, raising my arm and willing all the magic I could muster into my shield bracelet. The air around me condensed into a physical barrier. It would keep them out, but it would also keep me in.

I almost laughed at the anger on their faces. But at least it couldn't get worse.

"The protection spells cast throughout the Museum have been neutralised. It's time we got to-" An older man, perhaps in his sixties, also wearing a blue pinstriped suit, though he was more round than the others and his black hair was entirely grey entered the room and froze.

"Kill him." The grandfather growled, raising a blasting rod towards me. The Father and the son did the same.

Not every day ends with me trapped between three powerful Warlocks and their werewolf, holding a vital piece of their plan, with only solidified air standing between myself and death. Even the days that do tended to start out fairly mundanely. This one was no different, with one minor exception; a girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

My name is Alexander Ipswich Matthew Coven, I would advise against conjuring it. I am a Wizard. You know, magic, fortune telling, demons, were-wolfs, vampires- don't look at me like that, I'm not crazy and I'm not being funny.

If you'd been through the things I've been through you would laugh at how absurd that particular notion is.

And yes I know my name is a pathetic joke on fates part.

Being a wizard… it's not _that_ big a deal. I have a fairly normal life for a sixteen year old living in Central London. I go to school every day, go to my after school job a couple of nights a week then go to my White-Council-appointed-tutorials for a few hours to study wizardry after that.

Ok, so the wizard tutorials aren't the most normal thing in the world, but it's not like I have a choice, not after that whole raising the dead debacle two years ago.

Fun fact; when you're as naturally powerful as I am trying to bring your recently dead dog back from the dead is a bad idea. Why? Because it works. Not only that, but it works on all the dead animals in a two mile radius around the point of origin.

They came back, all of them, hundreds of them, and they came back wrong. They were a little less friendly, and a little more hungry.

The White Council happened to have a practitioner in the area who was able to put a stop to it before too many people got seriously injured. Still, it's very dangerous. Of course the practitioner also re-killed Buddy – who was acting a lot more like Kujo than the lovable family pet I had been missing – and apprehended me, not that I put up a fight.

He took me in front of the White Council – the ruling body of wizards - and almost had me executed on the spot. Turns out summoning a hundred angry zombies from the dead, giving the creatures of the nevernever – you don't want me to even try explaining the dark dimension to you – a place to latch into the human world is a black magic offence punishable by death. More than a couple of the old bastards still think I should have been executed, unsafe they call me.

Luckily I was only fourteen. There's a clause in the White Council's laws that gives an inexperienced minor a one-time pass, on the condition that they are taught how to use their fledgling abilities responsibly.

And so that's how I met the wizard _Mars_, the White Councils assigned tutor. Well, he calls himself Mars. I don't know his real name and I don't expect he'll ever tell me, at least not from his own lips.

You see, when a wizard knows someone's name they can use it for magic. Don't misunderstand, you can't just root through an annoying neighbours rubbish and get their full name off a bank statement, then hex them into never liking loud music again. No, you need their true name from their lips. Their pronunciation, their inflections, everything.

I wish I had known all that when I was taken in front of the White Council, now they all know how to conjure me should they ever wish to.

I know they're supposed to be the good guys, but I still don't feel comfortable with that many people having so much of a hold over me.

Besides which, the White Council are the good guys in the same way the Punisher is. Sure they take out the warlocks and push back any creature from the nevernever that goes too far, but collateral damage is pretty much a mantra of theirs, or so Mars tells me.

Still, I've heard of worse punishments than a tutor for wizards who did less than me.

Yeah, so when I said I was a wizard, I suppose it was an over statement. I'm an apprentice. A supremely gifted apprentice, but an apprentice.

In the two years since I started learning I've come leaps and bounds. No longer an accidental necromancer, I have a pretty solid knowledge of what I can do, what I can't do, what I should do and what I shouldn't. If I had my way I wouldn't even have my instructor anymore, but until I complete my sentence the wizard-law is the wizard-law I suppose.

My biggest problems in life come, not specifically from magic, but from the solitude the magic brings to me. We magical types are a frightfully lonely bunch. Getting close to people is too big a risk. There's too big a chance that someone will find out or fall into the secret world that we inhabit.

Sure people know it's there, like that fear at the back of your mind that you ignore because you don't want it to be real, but for the most part the wizarding world goes ignored or disbelieved by the rest of the world.

Even so, after the zombie pets and the assortment of other nasty things my instructor showed me in those two years… there's no way I'd risk putting someone else in that situation.

Which is why I wish she had never transferred to my school.

'Who?' you ask.

"Melanie Jones." Our elderly tutor, Mister Davis, said loudly, introducing her to the class. She stood awkwardly at the front of the tutor group, clutching her iron-on-patch covered messenger bag – I noticed with some interest that she had a pentacle ironed on to one spot on the front - at her side while everyone stared up at her, judging her like vultures deciding on the rotten-ness of some piece of meat.

"She has just transferred here from Salem Massachusetts in America," that explained the pentacle iron-on, "and I hope you'll all welcome her into the school and the country." I kept my eyes on her the whole time, cursing my misfortune; I instantly liked her. I don't know what it was.

Whether it was how she had taken the simple school uniform, with its white shirt, red tie, black skirt and black blazer, and somehow managed to transform it into something without breaking any of the school rules to do it, or something entirely different; I don't know.

Compared to her uniform – used in the broadest possible terms – mine was almost comically plain. Even compared to the other students of my tutor group I had done the least to individualise myself, and by doing so I suppose I had come up as somewhat unique.

The only things I wore that weren't the norm where my shield bracelet – a bracelet made of small shields that I could pour magic into to create a wall of air so solid that nothing could get through – and my pentacle necklace. Otherwise I was wearing smart shoes, plain trousers, a plain white shirt my uniform red tie and I had my black and knee length, black cotton coat hanging from the back of my chair.

She looked around the room, her neck length, straight purple hair obscuring half her face until she settled on me. Her brow furrowed for a moment and then raised in the centre as I squirmed in my seat. She smiled at me and brushed her hair behind her ear, revealing a pale freckled face with youthful qualities that most of the other girls in the class had covered with slutty makeup.

"Ah, the seat beside Mister Coven appears available." Mr Davis motioned. I looked sideways at the seat, unaware of the vacancy until she was being directed towards it. I turned back to the front and she smiled at the older teacher, following his direction to my side.

She sat down next to me, less than a foot away and placed her bag under her seat. She looked up at Mr Davis and then at me, a little nervousness in her expression.

"Hi." She said in one of those almost stereotypical American accents. I wouldn't have been able to place it if Mr Davis hadn't mentioned that she was from Massachusetts. "I'm Mel."

I smiled despite myself, noticing with a little humour that even without any knowledge of the occult she had managed to keep her name to herself without being rude. I looked sideways at her, taking her in up close. Her clothes, her hair, the thin chain around her neck. Her gentle, playful smile, dimpled cheeks, freckles, button nose and… I avoided eye contact, opting to look her in the bridge of the nose.

When a wizard looks into another's eyes - assuming that other isn't an animal, a creature from the nevernever or a person you've already met eyes with - something happens. My instructor calls it a soul gaze, but I'm not sure if that's his word for it or the word for it. You see everything you need to know about a person. I've only ever done it three times, once with the head teacher, once with a member of the white council and then once with my instructor – Pro tip; never look into the soul of a wizard who's seen the things that Mars has seen. If I weren't as thick headed as I am I would have gone insane.

I nodded, looking her in the nose – it's the closest I had learned to get to eye contact without being forced to know a person's deepest darkests. "Hey, I'm Alex-" and that's where I should have stopped. Abigail wasn't a she-wizard – I want to say a witch, but I have a feeling that they are something else entirely; my education's not complete, what can I say? Abigail was just a regular girl. She didn't have any magic, she wasn't related to someone with magic, she'd never stumbled into the secret world – hell she was from Salem, the most magically impotent place on earth, at least since they killed all their magic folk in the sixteen-nineties – but just talking to me risked her safety.

I should have just said something offensive, turned away and let her live out the rest of her life in peace, but like I said; I liked her, and since when were hormone charged teenage boys in any way rational?

That wasn't where I stopped. I probably said the stupidest thing I could to this girl. From the top, I said, "Hey, I'm Alex. How do you like London so far?"

"It's ok." She smiled, I sensed a tinge of regret and sadness in her expression.

I smiled and returned to look at the board as Mr Davis started writing up the week's goals for the class. "It's wet, it's windy and everyone talks about the weather too much." I sighed. "You miss Salem?"

She nodded, sighing as she sank down in her chair a little. "It was a crappy little tourist trap, but it was home. It's where I had friends."

I nodded, understandingly. "Well London's not so bad, it has it's positives alongside the negatives." I promised. "I don't know what they are, but I'll keep a look out and make sure to fill you in if I find them."

She chuckled. "Maybe I should stick close, just in case you're in the middle of communing when you notice it and forget to tell me."

I frowned a little in confusion and looked at her, bumping my eyes up and over hers as I noticed that she was looking at me as well. "Communing?"

She nodded at my chest. "Your Pentacle." She said. "It slipped out of your shirt."

I looked down at my tie to find the five point star made of silver and encased in a circle dangling from my neck. Most people, apparently including Melanie Jones, believe that the pentacle is a symbol of the devil; a way to commune with the beast. When in fact it's the exact opposite. The pentacle is a symbol of white magic, of order, peace and protection.

I smiled and tucked it back into my shirt. "A gift from an uncle." I told her. "I do all my communing with my wall pentacle"

"Oh it's cool, you see them all over the place in Salem. T-shirts, hoodies, key-chains," she nodded at my chest, "necklaces."

"And iron-on bag patches." I added, remembering the patch on her bag.

Her eyes flicked down at her seat, remembering the pentacle and then back up to me. "Hey, so what are you doing tonight?" she said, pretty randomly, out of the blue.

"I- nothing." I answered, looking back up at the board. I had a lesson in the evening with Mars, but whatever she was talking about probably wouldn't last until then.

"You want to do something after class?" She looked nervous, was she asking me out? I've never been asked out before, is that what it sounds like? "Don't get me wrong, it's not a date." That would be a no then. "It's two new friends enjoying each other's company, while trying to figure out the positives of the city they inhabit."

I let out a short breath of laughter and nodded. "Sounds like a plan." I told her. "I have to be somewhere at ten, but that still gives us six and a half hours."

"Cool." A few locks of her hair fell out from behind her ear and she pulled it back, smiling awkwardly up at me. "Cool." She nodded.

A moment later the class bell sounded, indicating that we were to go to our classes. I stood up and waited for Mel to stand as well. She pulled a small piece of paper from her bag as she threw the strap over her shoulder and eyed it for a moment, frowning. "Do you know where room 202 is?" she asked, looking up at me.

"English Literature. I'm going there now." I said, smiling. "Just follow me, I'll show you."

"Thanks." She said.

"Here, let me see." I held out my hand for her class schedule and she handed it over to me. "Ok…" I said, looking over it. I was in quite a few of her classes; English lit and language, Maths, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, wood work and Psychology. She had media instead of my History, Spanish instead of my Latin – Mars told me that I'd have to learn it anyway, might as well fold it into the curriculum – and ICT instead of my Geography lessons.

A lot of people look at me and assume I'm a computer geek, I don't know why, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. I hate computers, or more accurately they hate me. So does every piece of technology that was made after the nineteen forties or something.

It's something to do with the magic, it interferes with the electrics or something. I don't know; I just get near it and it shorts out, stops working, occasionally explodes. It's not always, most of the time it's fine, but I do my best to keep clear of the stuff all the same. There are some things I just can't help but use like buses and trains. They are a lot more stable than most things so long as I don't actively use magic on them, but I spend the whole time holding my breath and closing my eyes, willing the magic to remain inside me just the same.

Of course when I really need things to work is when they tend to break down. Mars swears that murphy's law isn't a real thing, but I've seen so much evidence it's hard for him to disprove.

"I'm in all of your classes except Media, Spanish and ICT, but you don't have any of those until tomorrow so I'll show you where they are at lunch."

"Ah Alex, how lucky I am to have been sat next to you." She grinned, holding her hands up to her chin in a mock awestruck pose.

"What would you do without me?" I agreed, grinning.

We spent the rest of the day chatting through our classes, getting to know each other while the teachers fed us information that we ignored in favour of the more interesting and easier to digest words we offered each other.

I was interested to find out that before she moved she had been a competitive archery athlete. Not on the Olympic level but she could hit centre on a target at fifty meters three out of four tries. She talked about her life in Salem, about missing the few friends she had, and I talked about my job in Dave's Carpentry shop making the simpler things he required.

I was a good carpenter, that's why I too wood work tech. Mars had shown me his wizards staff and his blasting rod years ago when we first met and explained them to me. They were self-built magical objects made from wood. He explained that magic works best when directed through something to protect your mind from the dangers so I started working with wood in anticipation for creating my own staff.

It intrigued me to discover that she had a hand in carpentry as well. Nothing so formal as my job, but she made her own arrows, preferring wooden ones to the fibreglass ones you get these days.

After school finished we hopped on a train to Charring Cross. I closed my eyes on the way there and pretended I was a nervous traveller, willing all my power to remain inside me. Thankfully all my magic did was play with the lights.

We got out at our station and made our way down to Trafalgar square where a pop concert was going on. The whole area was fenced off, so we had to watch from pretty far back, but that suited me just fine – harder to destroy the speakers and the musical equipment from the back of the gig.

We moved on after a couple of songs, heading down to the Thames where the artists were painting and chalking. We stopped for a half hour when a comic artist offered us a good price – which I paid - on a portrait, then laughed for the next thirty minutes when he drew us looking into each other's eyes with hearts floating all around.

Melanie kept the sketch for herself, thanking me with a kiss on the cheek.

As it got dark we continued up to Leicester square where the month long fairground was already in full swing. I managed to keep my magic under control for the most part, only destroying a few lights when I imbued a ball with a small amount of my will and with a whisper of the Brythonic word _Deuina, _sent it flying into a pyramid of cans, knocking them to the floor and winning a stuffed toy, pathetically small considering the effort_._

For the record, the Brythonic word I used, _Deuina_, doesn't mean anything, at least not to me. It's a word in a dead language, completely separated from my knowledge. It acts as insulation against the magic, like the wizards staff and the blasting rod it channels the magic and stops it from damaging me. I could use a modern word, but the more I can connect with it the weaker the insulation. Dead words and made up words work best. _Deuina _is just the word I use for basic craftings. I have others.

As eight o'clock rolled in we found our way to a little pub near Charring Cross station and ordered some food while the pub land lord furiously beat the TVs and sky box to try and get the reception back – my magic's doing yes.

By the time they brought our food out he had given up and turned them all off, resorting to an old record playing juke box in the corner for entertainment. It had been so unused that the landlord had to take a mop to its face to clear away the dust before it could be used.

"Mm, this is good." Mel said, surprised as she tucked into her burger. "I didn't realise how hungry I was." I chuckled and rolled up my sleeves, revealing my bracelet for the first time as I started to eat my bacon cheese burger. "Oh, that's nice." She said, looking at the bracelet dangling from my wrist. "It looks like something from the amazon, does it have some sort of meaning?"

I shook my head and, after making a quick check of the immediate area, unclipped it, handing it to her to hold. As soon as I unclipped it it's power faded. In magic things are only as good as their circle. Break the circle and you break the magic, like a circuit.

The little shields dangled away from the main band where they were clipped on, showing off the little wards carved into each of them. Most of them were the same, but every so often there was one just a little bit different.

"It's called a shield bracelet. It's supposed to protect you." I told her.

She smiled, handing it back to me and I clipped it back on, making a quick check of the 169 metal links that held it together.

"So where should we go next?" she asked, chomping down a couple of chips. "You want to see a movie?"

I checked my watch – nine-o'clock - and shook my head. "I wish I could, but I've got to be somewhere in an hour."

She deflated a little. "Is it that late already?" she asked.

I nodded and showed her my old analogue watch. "I should call my folks." She sighed and pulled out her phone. I cursed internally; it was one of those new smart phones. She pressed the on button, nothing. Again, nothing. She cursed, shaking the phone and I flushed a little. "Crap. My phones not working."

I reached into my bag and pulled out my ancient old Nokia 5110. I'd always heard they were impervious to damage, I'd learned that that included magic. Sure they looked ugly with their little aerials, their bulk and little green screens, but at least they worked. I handed it to her and she took it like I'd given her a dead baby, staring at it without comprehension.

"Thanks?" she phrased it like a question. "How old is this?"

"About fifteen years." I replied.

"And it still works?" she looked at me with disbelief.

"Apparently better than yours." I chided.

She nodded her head to the side as if to say 'fair point' and pressed in her phone number before holding it to her ear. Her eyebrows raised in surprise. "It's ringing."

I smiled and waited. "Hey Mom." She said after a moment. "No, I'm just out with London with-" she looked up at me for a second and then back down. "A friend… yeah _he_ leant me his phone." She blushed and I looked away, around the room as if I wasn't listening to her conversation. "We'll be back soon, just heading to the rail-station." She said, shaking her head. "Ok… ok… yeah, I'm- Ok. Bye."

She hung up and handed me the phone. I took it and returned it to my bag. "My loving mother." She sighed, finishing her drink and getting ready to leave. "She's certain that you're up to no good, wants me home right away." She shook her head and I got up, pulling on my things and slinging my bag over my shoulder. We started out of the pub and back towards the station. She slipped her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder.

My heart started to beat faster and I had to fight to keep walking straight. We headed up into the station and found our train, jumping on an empty carriage and settling in. She sat down next to me and rested herself against me, her purple hair a contrast to my black coat.

"Thanks for tonight, Alex." She smiled.

"No problem." I said, forcing my voice not to crack.

"You actually made me forget about my friends in Salem for a little while there." She admitted. She sighed and looked out the window. "Maybe moving to a whole new country isn't so scary after all."

I frowned and followed her gaze out the window. "Maybe not." I agree. "Or maybe you're still on the plane, asleep, dreaming about your ideal first day here, then you'll wake up and you'll never have met me and I don't exist." Oh if only it were true, she'd go through far less trouble if it were true.

She paused for a moment and looked up at me frowning. "That's a thought that's gonna fester, jerk." She said, playfully batting me in the stomach.

Jokingly I doubled over as if it hurt, laughing. "Sorry, sorry." I said, raising my hands defensively. My shield bracelet jangled free and I lowered my hands, an idea in mind. I sat back and reached for my wrist. I fumbled with the clasp and got it off, then unclipped one of the twenty-six shields with its six links at the main chain and clipped the bracelet back onto my wrist. Taking one link off of the severely diminishes it's strength, but after that it changes practically nothing. There were one-hundred-and-sixty-nine links, thirteen times thirteen. There's something magically relevant about the number thirteen, but I don't know what it is. After taking off the six links and the shield there were one-sixty-three. I would be able to get another set from Mars, just tell him that I had to bargain with a pixie and it wanted a chain.

"Here." I said, handing it to her. She took it, looking down at the ward on the shield. "One of my shields to remind you that it's not a dream when I'm not around, and maybe it will protect you like it does me." I felt the thrum of magic as she put her faith into it, like a religious icon. It's not the cross or the star of David or – I look down at my pentacle for a moment and then back up at Melanie – a pentacle that has power, it's the faith people have in it.

It creates a perceptible magic. A wizards faith in their magic, a scientists faith in physics, a librarians faith in their books or a religious persons faith in their god, it all thrums with faith, with magic. Hell, places of worship positively roar with it. I don't like to go near churches, they give me a headache, I can't go near them when they're having mass, It's practically blinding.

"Thank you." She said, clipping the shield to her necklace – a simple silver chain that dangled a few inches below her neck – and resting her head on my shoulder again.

The train took us uneventfully back to our stop – London Bridge, sure we could have walked that but it was getting late and taking the train cuts twenty five minutes off the journey - and we got off, heading out of the train station. "Which way do you live?" I asked and she nodded the opposite way from my destination. I looked up at the sky, it was so dark now that I didn't want to just leave her to the cold, unforgiving night. After all; I knew what was out there.

That said, I was almost late and being late could lead to my execution if one of the White council was having a bad day.

"You're the other way then?" she asked.

I nod. "OK, then." She stepped back from me and smiled. "I'll see you at school tomorrow then." She promised and started walking away. I was about to go after her – screw the White Council, right? – but then she paused, let out a sigh of exasperation and turned back to me. "Screw it." She walked purposefully up to me , moved in close, placed a hand on the back of my neck and leaned up on her toes, kissing me on the lips.

I was so stunned at first I didn't react, but then I kissed her back.

It didn't last long, perhaps a few seconds, nowhere near a minute, and then she let go, dropping back to her feet. She looked up at me, grinning mischievously. "Don't get the wrong idea." She told me. "We're still just friends, I just wanted to get all the sexual tension out of the way."

She winked at me once, holding the shield pendant in her hand and then she was gone. I was too stunned to argue or try to go with her.

I should have just told her to do something anatomically impossible the first time we spoke. After that little display I wouldn't be able to get her out of my mind. She would fall into the secret world. She would not be safe.

"Bye." I said quietly, long after she was gone and I'd regained my voice. She was so screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You're late, Alexander Matthew Ipswich Coven." A shiver ran down my spine at the nearly exact recitation of my name. I hated the way Mars could do that, part conjuring me.

I walked down the metal stairs into the basement on Mars' antique shop. The room was a perfect square with circles and wards everywhere you looked. In the centre of the room was a silver circle built into the floor, to contain or protect, Mars had never told me. There was a table and chairs, a cupboard filled with supplies, an assortment of tools and a shelf filled with magical artefacts that I was not allowed to touch.

Mars stood at his potion making desk next to the fridge full of ingredients and the sink where he dumped the failed potions back into the diluting waters of the city sewers.

"Don't do that." I grumbled at him, the elation I had felt after my not-date with Melanie was ripped from me at the use of my name. "You know I hate that."

"I do." He admitted, turning from his work to face me. Mars was a tall man, a head taller than me even at my respectable six feet. His hair was long and black with grey speckled throughout. His eyes were dull brown, hard and cold. He had a strong jaw with a long scar from the right side, across his jaw and up to his cheek bone. He had refused to tell me how it happened, but from what I could gather he got into a duel with a swordsman.

He wore clothes out of the last century, maybe the one before that. His black, thin laced shoes looked ancient, he wore black trousers, a white shirt with a black tie, mostly covered by a waist coat, also black. He had a pocket watch hanging from the waist coat, he even had those black bands people used to use to keep their shirt sleeves in check around his upper arms.

"And you know not to be late." He continued, eying me suspiciously. I stared back at him, looking up into his eyes. I liked staring into his eyes, there weren't many people I could do it with, at least not without burying myself soul deep in their world. "Where were you?"

"London." I said, defiantly as he rolled his eyes and turned back to what he was doing. I walked across to an empty seat and unloaded my coat, bag and tie onto it before rolling up my sleeves.

"What were you doing in London?"

I thought about lying, but decided against it. "New girl in my class, I was showing her around."

His head rose a fraction of an inch and his hands stopped moving. "You went on a date?"

I shook my head and crossed to the supply cabinet and opened it up. "She was very clear that it was not." I responded.

"That's a yes." He sighed, leaning forward and pressing his hands on the side of the table in exasperation. "Did you use any magic?"

I opened the cabinet and found the box I was looking for. I opened the box of spare shields and looked through for one with the right number of links, attaching it to the bracelet. Most Wizards shield bracelets didn't work like mine and Mars' they were ingle objects, not lots of pieces that could have interchangeable pieces. Ours could be altered to be more protective against different things, so we had spare pieces, just incase. I turned back to Mars to find him staring down at me. "Alex. Did you use magic on your date not-date?"

"I-" he had this way of looking at me like he's still soul gazing, like he can see right inside me. "Yes."

"What for?" he asked. "specifically."

I thought back through the not-date. "Mostly just malfunctioning technology." I told him.

"Mostly?"

I stare up at him for a moment and turn back to the cabinet, cheeks flushed. "I _may_ have given a ball an extra push to knock down a pyramid of cans to win a stuffed bear- I think it was a bunny actually."

"God Dammit, Alex!" he cursed.

"What?!" I call back. "It was just a little push."

"It was easy wasn't it?" Mars asked. "Just a little push of will and it worked?" I nodded. "Enthralling isn't it? How easy it was."

"I-"

"You used your lust, Alex." He explained.

I frowned up at him with confusion. "My Lust?"

He sighed and started pacing. "To use magic one draws on his emotions, his faith. _We_ draw our power from our determination, our strength of will, our wish to help people and our belief in doing good." I stepped back and leaned against the cabinet, his lectures tended to go on for a while. "But there are other sources that we can draw from. Wrath, envy, greed, pride, fear, sorrow and-" he stopped and motioned towards me, "lust. _These_ are the weapons of the Warlock. Of black magic."

And finally his point comes clear.

"You start to use those magics and you get hooked. It's like a drug, you start out with the right idea. You want to use the power to help people but soon it corrupts you, soon it changes your way of thinking. You're not preventing people's pain any longer, you're causing it. Soon you start to question why you have to answer to others instead of them answering to you." He turned to me and shook his head. "You can't use your magic to impress girls, it's a step into black magic."

"Alright." I nod. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. You're right."

He turned back to his potion making, shaking his head. "Can't believe I'm giving you this talk. Next thing I'll be telling you about-" He paused, hand on a bottle and turned back to me. "I really shouldn't have to talk to you about this, I'm not your bloody father."

I furrowed my brow. "About what?" I asked, nervously.

He sighed. "Safe sex-"

"Oh, jesus!" I exclaimed, turning away and walking towards the opposing wall.

"Do not do magic while having sex, doing so is practically a one way trip into the black magic." He tells me, over my protests.

"Christ, Mars, I'm not even having sex!" I exclaim.

He raises his hands, placating. "Fine, fine. I just needed to make sure you know."

"Jesus." I spit, shaking my head.

"Ok, I apologise for making you uncomfortable, but I'm your teacher, I have an obligation." He lets out a breath. "Now get out some chalk, I need to talk to a pixie and you might as well be the one to lock her in."

I shook my head and returned to the cabinet, opening it up and pulling out a box of chalk. I took one of the pieces out and turned back to Mars. "Poppie?" He nodded. Poppie was the name of one of the little fae, a pixie that Mars often trapped inside circles for information. I once asked how the little fae kept falling for it; apparently Pixies have worse memories than goldfish. "Where do you want it?"

"Not here, we're going on a field trip." He finished up his potion with a puff of smoke and poured it into a hip flask, capping it and putting it into his coat pocket.

"So long as we're not going to the Nevernever." I say. He nods, pulling on his coat and picking up his blasting rod and wizards staff.

"You ready?" he asks.

I pull on my coat and pocket the chalk. "Should I have a blasting rod or something?"

He shakes his head. "I don't expect trouble. I'm just bringing them on the off chance we run into something. You have your shield bracelet if we do."

"Something?" He looks at me for a moment and then shakes his head.

"I'll explain when we get there. Don't forget the Pixie invitation." He adds, heading up the stairs to where his nineteen-forties Chrysler Plymouth waited. It was a ridiculously old car, but the only car that I've ever seen completely ignore the problems magic feeds into technology.

I sighed and went to the fridge by his potions table and opened it up. I pulled out a piece of leftover pizza and dropped it into a re-sealable bag. Interesting little fact about faeries, pixies in particular; they love pizza. From my experience vegetarian Pizza is best.

I pocket the pizza and follow Mars up the stairs to the garage.

The garage door was already open and the car was already rolling out. I followed behind it and pulled the door closed and locked it up before jogging over to Mars' car and jumping into the passenger seat. He revved up the car and started out of the drive.

"So where are we going?" I asked as we turned off onto the street.

"Library." He said. "The London Library."

"Why?" I asked, strapping myself in. the London Library wasn't too far, but then it only took a few seconds to get into a car crash with London drivers on the road.

"There have been some strange things happening lately, people are coming out of libraries feeling a lot more tired than they should, people have been getting sicker. Last night a middle aged man, perhaps a little fat, at the London Library had a heart attack. They said it was strain on his heart from lack of exercise, but I'm not sure." Mars explained.

As I explained before, Mars was appointed to me by the White Council, but I'm not the only task they have him do. He keeps the peace in London. He'd taken me out with him before but not often. I've had to look after him after big fights on a number of occasions, but he never let me help. He didn't think I was ready.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I think someone's using the energy of the libraries to do their magic." He told me, rolling around a corner and bringing the Library in sight. The thrum of magic started as soon as I saw it, reverberating gently inside my head.

I frowned, considering his thought. Libraries were powerful magical buildings. Like places of worship a lot of people had put their faith into knowledge, reasoning, and understanding. After churches, Libraries and Museums were the most potent faith based magical smelting pots, they gave me the next biggest headaches.

"Is that possible?" I asked. "To use the magic from someone else's faith?"

He nodded, drawing the car up at a set of lights. "It's just a matter of knowing what you're doing." He said. "Magic is magic, it doesn't always matter where it came from, so long as you can feel it and nobody else has a hold of it you can use it. A lot of Warlocks and Witches use orgies and torture to fuel their more potent spells for example. Of course it's better to use your own, but yes, it's possible."

He looked sideways at me for a moment, frowned and looked back up at the lights. "Get used to your own magic before you start though." He added as the lights went green and we rolled through into the Library's car park and drawing up in a parking space.

I would have argued that he didn't need to keep assuming the worst of me, but the thrum of Faith distracted me, pounding in the back of my mind, forcing me to concentrate. Mars shut down the car and opened the door, stepping out.

I followed suit, closing the door behind me, allowing him to lock up. "Where do you want the circle?" I asked, looking around. We were in an underground car park with no cars other than our own. There were a few lights but only the spot by the ticket machine was particularly lit up.

"We'll head up to the little garden and put it out there." He told me. "Even a pixie isn't stupid enough to come down here in the middle of the night and chow down on a random piece of pizza."

I nod and lead the way up and out of the car park, following the poorly lit signs around to the little garden at the back. It wasn't much, a couple of trees, some flowers, a bush and a fountain, but in London it's hard to expect much more. I walked over to a large patch of concrete by the wall and crouched down.

I pulled the pizza free of the re-sealable bag and placed the slice of pizza on top of it, on the floor. "This good?" I asked as Mars came around the corner, holding his blasting rod and wizards staff and looking warily around.

He nodded. "Set it up and then we'll hide behind the bush." He motioned towards the one bush in the area.

I turned back to the pizza and drew a circle around it. I looked down at it and then back at Mars, he was looking around a little too warily for my comfort. I returned to the circle. For our purposes it was fine, but on instinct I went a step further.

I shuffled back and drew a significantly larger circle, then proceeded to add a number of half-circles facing the opposite way, intersecting the outer circle but not touching the inner circle to create a Celtic-knot-triangle that weaved in and out of the outer circle, surrounding the inner circle.

When finished it was large enough for two people of Mars' size to stand uncomfortably within. "What's that?" he asked, stepping up to the double shield as I stood up.

"Celtic magic." I responded, a small grin on my lips.

He frowned at it for a moment and then, after eying all of the points that I could have screwed up, nodded, satisfied. "Where did you learn it?" he asked, turning his back on it and eying the shadows.

"I didn't exactly." I said, pocketing the chalk and walking across to the bush. "I've seen symbols like it all over the place, books, historical films and stuff. I figured that it couldn't just be something made up and the way it looks, self-enclosed arcs, two interweaving patterns with no clear starting or ending point; it looked like a protection circle."

He nodded at me, a little surprised but I thought I saw some level of pride in his eyes as well. "Good work. A couple of things you need to know about it though; first of all, it'll take more of your will to put up. It'll be stronger than average for sure, but it'll take more will and concentration. Second, the extra lines mean that there's more you can screw up. More lines to accidentally damage. If that happens the whole thing comes crumbling down."

He turned to me, frowning. Not at me, but at the world. "If something happens, get in it and don't come out for anything. I don't care what happens."

I frowned back at him. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know." He admitted. "I just have a feeling, a chill down the spine. Poppy won't betray us, but I can't be sure that nobody left protections in place. Promise me, Alex." He said sternly. "The White council put me in charge of your protection. I can't do that if you don't protect yourself."

I nodded to him and her nodded in return.

"Ok." He nodded, walking over to the bush. We crouched down behind it and he placed his staffs down. He closed his eyes and whispered Poppy's true name. Don't ask me to say it, I can barely pronounce it, took me a week to get it right the first time.

A few minutes passed before anything happened, but then a buzz of wings and a gently glow came zipping out of the trees, slowing as it came near. The Pixie bobbed slowly and then moved towards the Pizza. It stopped in front of the circle, moving around the pizza for a few moments before charging the leftovers.

I forced my will into the inner circle and, with a snap, the trap closed over the Pixie.

The Pixie froze instantly and Mars and I stood. Poppy attempted to fly away but slammed into an invisible wall, like Wile E. Coyote trying to follow the road runner into a painting. Poppy shot back the other way, slamming into the other side, repeating the motions a few times before eventually falling down on the pizza.

We moved toward the little pixie and came into the light.

"Hey Poppy." I said, stepping over to the edge of my Celtic circle.

"You!" she squeaked, pointing her fingers up at us. "Mars, Alex, You let me out of here this instant!" she yelled. "I will go tell the Summer Queen on you!"

"Poppy, stop." Mars said, crouching down so that his face was on level with hers. As close as we were now I could see her properly. She was about four inches tall with dragonfly wings and a ripped up McDonald's hamburger wrapper tied around her like a toga to cover her surprisingly human and tediously attractive body. Her face was thin but beautiful; if she was about five feet taller I might have had impure thoughts. She had long green hair growing from the top of her head, shaved at the sides into a horse-like mane running down her back to her hips.

"No, you stop Mars!" she demanded, pointing a finger up at him. "Let me out now or I will use fae magic on you." She threatened. "I'll do it! I can!"

"No you won't Poppy; we've had this conversation before."

She frowned up at Mars and stomped her foot in the pizza. "Come on Mars, you lock me in here with old pizza against my will… It's not even warm! You can at least pretend!"

Mars sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. Oh, please don't hurt me, I just want some information."

"You're a terrible actor, Mars." She frowned, shaking her head.

"And you're trapped like a rat." Mars surmised. "I'm here to bargain with you, Poppy, you know how this works."

She glared up at Mars for a minute longer before deflating – can I just say; Pixies are ridiculous creatures. Even at their small size all their movements look exaggerated. The way She dropped her arms looked like something out of a cartoon. "Fine." She squeaked. "What do you want to know?"

"Last few days; has anyone suspicious been hanging around here?" He asked, "Has anyone been doing magic here? Has there been any warnings about the nevernever?"

"I don't know!" Poppy said. "I wasn't here! Now let me out, Mars!" She stomped her foot and a little tomato sauce spat out from under the Pizza's cheese.

"Poppy…" he said, almost scolding her. "In return for you going out and finding the information I need I will buy you a fresh, warm pizza, and I'll let you out." She frowned up at him, squinting at him as if to try and determine the catch for such a bounty.

"You promise?" She asked after a moment.

"I promise." Mars said.

"Both of you." She demanded. "I know this isn't your magic Mars."

My tutor looked at me and nodded. I turned to Poppy. "I promise poppy."

"You promise?" she asked again, pointing at us both.

I turned to Mars and he nodded. "We promise" we said together.

"Promise!" she demanded a third time.

I sighed. Making a promise once or twice is a matter of principal. I could promise you that I'll be somewhere and not show up and you'll just think less of me, but a threefold promise? There's magic in that. It's a binding contract. Or so they tell me.

"I promise." Mars and I said again.

She looked up at us and nodded. "Ok, let me out."

"Do you promise to fulfil your end of the bargain?" Mars asked.

She frowned. "Mars Tiberius Kirk-" didn't expect the little buzz ball to know pop culture references, I've got to be honest. "I don't believe you don't trust me!"

"Like you trust me?"

"That's different!" Poppy argued. "You're a mortal. Mortals are inherently tricky."

"Says the pixie who I met when she tied my laces together in the middle of a fight with a werewolf." Mars rolled his eyes. "Just promise and Alex will let you out."

"FINE!" She shouted, fists down at her side. "I promise, I promise, I promise!" She declared.

"Alright. Alex, let her out." I nodded and broke the circle. Almost as soon as I had she was gone, speeding straight between us and disappearing into the trees.

"Is she going to come back?" I asked.

"Doesn't she always?" I shrugged my eyebrows in the affirmative. "I'm not worried about that." He said.

"What are you worried about?" I asked, trying to guess at his mood.

"Lots of things." He admitted. "My store going under, my house blowing up because of an accidental spell… accidentally eating a peanut."

I rolled my eyes and stepped over to the wall, beside my Celtic protection circle. "And tonight?" I asked.

He rested his staff and rod on his shoulders, turning to me. "If I was siphoning magical energies off of people to the point that it's killing them; I'd leave a trap for anyone investigating."

"You think about it like that a lot?" I asked.

He looked down at me and rolled his head on his shoulder, groaning a little. He didn't want to respond, but I just stared at him. "Didn't always work for the white council." He admitted, turning away and pulling out his old phone and dialling up the pizza company.

As an hour rolled past the pizza delivery guy came around the back of the library and gave us the pixies bounty and some very weird looks.

I pulled my old Nokia out of my pocket and checked the time, realising with a groan that it was coming close to midnight. Once again I was not going to get much sleep thanks to my tutor session, that's assuming Poppy returned with enough time for me to get any sleep at all.

I re-pocketed the phone and – while massaging my temples against the buzz of the buildings faith - looked up at Mars as he paced.

"So how much longer do you think we'll be here?" I asked.

"As long as we have to." Mars sighed, resting his staff and rod across the back of his neck, holding both ends of both staffs in his hands.

"You remember I have school tomorrow, right?" I asked.

"And your new little girlfriend." He said, turning and pacing back the other way, nodding to me as he spoke.

"She's just a friend." I responded, remembering what she said after kissing me.

"Did she kiss you?"

"I-" thankfully I didn't need to answer him. I don't like seeing that smirk of his when he's right at the best of times.

I was interrupted by a buzzing noise and the re-appearance of Poppy. She shot through the trees and slammed into my chest, knocking me back against the wall. She was surprisingly strong, all things considered.

"Alex!" she exclaimed, looking up at me. "Thanks for the catch." She grinned, jumping off me and looking around. She found the pizza on the floor and darted for it. Mars pressed a hand down onto the roof of the vegetarian feast and stopped Poppy in her tracks.

"Poppy, I think you're forgetting something." Mars said, placing the rod and staff on the floor. "Do you have the information I need?"

She frowned up at Mars and nodded. "There's been no warnings from the nevernever." She answered. "I asked the Court, and they- well they tried to have me executed, but I think it was worth it." She looked down to the pizza and back up again. Mars frowned and sighed, flipping open the pizza and sitting back on the floor. Poppy's eyes widened in amazement as the warm pizza appeared in front of her. She darted onto it and sat down in the middle, grabbing great handfuls and stuffing her face.

"What did you find out from the Summer council?" there were two faerie councils, winter and summer. Being that it was Summer; the Summer Queen, the Summer Mother and Summer Lady's court was in session.

"Nothing," she said, chomping on a piece of pepper. "but there was a _polevoi_ here last night, he said that there _was_ someone here doing magic." She continued. "This is SO good."

"Poppy, focus. Who did the magic?" Mars asked.

She shrugged. "There were three people here he said." She bit into an onion piece, groaning in pleasure. "They were doing weird magic, but Go-go didn't say what it was. Something to do with jewellery."

Mars nodded and stood up. "Anything else you can tell me?" Mars asked.

Poppy looked up at him and cocked her head to the side. "Go-go said he'd never seen them before, and that he hangs out here a lot, playing with the knowledge seekers."

"Knowledge seekers?" I asked.

"College students." Mars elaborated. "Ok, thanks Poppy. Alex, clean the circles and we'll go."

I sighed and nodded, crossing to the Celtic circle and scuffing it with my shoes. So long as it wasn't complete it wouldn't be useful, and in England it'd wash it away within the week. Scuffing it was the easiest option. Nobody would look twice at it as a magical design.

Mars nodded and started back to the car. I followed and slipped in the passenger seat. We drove back to Mars' store and he locked the car up in the garage. We wandered down to the stairs to the lab and he set his staff and rod aside.

I stepped across to the fridge and grabbed a coke, pulling the ring to open it and taking a sip before sitting down at the table. I frowned up at mars and rotated my head, yawning. "What sorts of things could the wizard do with siphoned magic?" I asked as he started to pace. Mars was a great wizard, I'd seen him do amazing magics, I was lucky to have him as a teacher, though I'd never tell him so. He was brilliant and powerful, but he wasn't all that good at figuring things out. Sure when he had the information he could put it all together, but moments like this, when he only had a couple of pieces of the puzzle; that's when I was usually able to help him.

"Things it'd usually take multiple wizards to achieve." He said, looking up at the ceiling. "I suppose we can assume that whatever it is; if they're killing people to do it it's not nice."

"You've got no idea what they did?" I asked. He shook his head. "Would it have to be something big? Or could it be something small?"

"No; it could be something small." He conceded. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just; if they were doing magic so powerful that they needed to steal the power from others, wouldn't it be big? Like, fireworks big? Flashy and sparkly, lots of white noise and explosion sounds." He paused for a moment to consider. "There was nothing on the news, Poppy didn't hear anything from the Summer council. Whatever they were doing, it wasn't astronomical, was it? Or else the White Council would be busting down the door to find out what's going on."

"That's a good point." He conceded. "They _could_ have been doing something small… but why use other peoples magic? Why risk being caught by straining someone till they died?"

I shrugged. "Maybe they didn't mean to?" I offered. "Poppy said that the Pole Vor-"

"_Polevoi._" He corrected. "Field warrior, it's a macho pixie, trying to look cool for Poppy."

"Didn't the _PoleVoi _say that he played with college students there?" Mars nodded. "Maybe the wizards-"

"Warlocks." Mars interjected. "Wizards don't kill innocent beings, or steal their power unless absolutely necessary."

"Maybe they thought they'd all be college students, maybe they didn't anticipate an older man with a heart defect?" I offered.

"It's possible, but why do it at all if they didn't have to? Why risk it on a little thing?" he was speaking to himself. He knew I didn't have the answers, just insight and guesses. "Poppy mentioned jewellery. They could have been enchanting."

"Maybe enchanting lots of things." I offered. "That wouldn't show up right? If someone made a load of enchanted items it wouldn't do anything strange, would it?"

He shook his head. "You're right, that is something I wouldn't be able to sense, but it still doesn't explain why they'd do it." He placed his hands on his hips, paused and pulled out his hip flask. He placed it on the table. "Why risk being caught?"

"Maybe they've just been seeing if they could do it? Test runs."

He stopped and considered that idea. I could see his wheels moving. "All of the others were smaller, they were in tiny libraries where nobody would notice." He pulled a map out of the supply cabinet and pinned it to the wall, stabbing it with coloured pins. They were all over London, mostly in the suburbs where a little bit of magic wouldn't be noticed, and then there was one next to the London Library. "All of these would have been tests to find out if they could siphon the energy off and this one," he pointed at the London library, "They were seeing how much they could siphon, whether they could use it for actual spells."

I stood up and stepped over to the map, frowning and eying it. "If that's the case then they're practicing for somewhere in particular." Mars nodded, looking at the map with me. "Where would they go?" I asked. "Somewhere people have even more faith than the London Library. Westminster Cathedral?" I offered, pointing at the map.

Mars shook his head. "These aren't people who believe in the Faith of the Church. They've gone all over London, they could have hit a church any time but I've seen no evidence of it. No; they're knowledge seekers, like Poppy said."

"College students?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not specifically. More like Atheists. Arrogant ones."

I raised an eyebrow. "You say that like you're not an atheist." I don't know why the information felt important. I guess after years of being a Christian finding out about the secret world had shattered my faith and, I suppose, I expected it to have done the same to him.

He looked at me. "I'm not." He said, raising his eyebrows a little. "All the things we see and do on a daily basis… the demons, the ghosts… It makes sense to me that if you have one side of a coin you've got to have the other. I've seen the devil, stared him in the- well strictly speaking he doesn't have eyes. How can I not have faith in a god – perhaps not the Christian one – when I've seen his counterpart with my own eyes?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but decided against it. I might not have believed in what he did but that didn't mean I should try to shatter those beliefs. They gave him hope and power – I could feel it on him as he spoke – who was I to judge.

Mars turned back to the map. "The British Museum." He decided, "It'll be closed now. They'll need to wait until tomorrow." He turned to the hip flask and picked it up. He handed it to me.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Teleportation potion. Just think of home and you'll be back there." He told me. "Your tutor session is over for tonight, I'll see you tomorrow at ten."

I sighed and nodded. He wouldn't be taking me with him to confront the three warlocks, even though in the eyes of magic, I became an adult the day I turned sixteen.

That's how it was with Mars and I. We'd figure everything out together. We'd prepare what was needed together, assuming there was the need. Then Mars would disappear. When he reappeared the problem would be gone.

It was comforting in some ways, but frustrating in others.

I downed the hip flask and thought of Home, at least I meant to. A thought came to me; the libraries had been practically empty when the Warlocks had Siphoned the power from them, why would the British museum be any different?

My eye flicked up to the map, I saw the British museum and then the Potion took effect.

The last thing I saw before the lights of the street lamps outside the British Museum was Mars' eyes widen as he spun around to follow my gaze to the Map.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

That's how I came to find myself in front of the British Museum. How I came across the bodies – mauled, Stabbed and magicked – of a score of night watchmen. How I found myself in the middle of a power struggle between a family of practitioners and how I came to be the focus of their undivided rage.

As I said, days like those start as normally as any other. God, fate, the deities, magic and it's white council… they don't give you warnings mid-morning that you're going to be fighting for your life by the end of the day. That would just be too fair on the people that stood for them.

The old warlock's staff blast slammed into my shield like a freaking freight train. My back slammed into the wall, quickly followed by my head. The middle aged warlock and then Shaun followed up his attack in quick succession.

Shaun's attack, as it turned out, was the strongest. He put all of his lust, his youthful pride and impotent rage into his attack and it knocked me from my feet. The attack – a fire ball – did nothing to lessen the shield, but bloody hell did it hurt. It was the most painful of the attacks, but thank god it was first.

The middle aged warlock cast lightning across the room. The lightning raked across my shield, I could feel it weakening. It didn't crack, it held, but barely. The attack was the most dangerous of the three. If it had gone first I wouldn't have survived any other. Second would probably have been too much. It's just a bloody good thing that Shaun had been so impatient.

"Hold." The elder warlock growled.

I heard laughter. I was just about to spit and curse at them for laughing at me, but then I realised that the laughter wasn't coming from them, it was coming from me. Yeah, I think I'd gone mad. I forced myself back to my feet, looking up at the Warlocks. I'm not sure if I'd meant to carry on laughing or not, but I did, looking up at them.

"That all you got?" I heard myself ask through the ringing in my head as I stumbled back against the wall.

"Fool boy." One of them said, the father I think. "I'll take care of this."

"No, wait." The eldest rumbled, stepping into the room and walking up to my shield. "That should have shattered his shield."

"I'll just-" Shaun started.

"What?" The grandfather asked, turning on him. "Try to destroy everything in front of you like you did a moment ago? Wise move boy, you ever consider the fact that he's holding the crown?" Shaun growled, he clearly didn't like to be talked down to. "Bad enough you destroyed half the wall, there's no chance they aren't going to investigate this now."

"We killed twenty guards coming here, there was going to be an investigation." The father pointed out.

"Perhaps, son, but now the crown will be the focus." The grandfather pointed out.

The middle Warlock frowned for a moment and nodded. "What do you suggest, we can't just let him live, and we need the crown."

"Give me a moment." He said, walking across to me. He looked down at me and I raised my eyes to look at him. "What's your name boy?" he asked.

I laughed again. "Yeah, that'll work." I said, shaking my head. "What's yours?"

He smiled at me, "You know not to hand out your name, that's good. What else do you know?"

"Enough." I said. "Let's just say 'if knowledge is power then I'm a freaking god.'"

He chuckled. "I doubt that. What are you doing here?"

I thought for a moment, what was the harm in telling him, if it kept him talking. "This, mister Warlock, is an ill-advised attempt to save the world from your plan." I explained.

He raised his eyebrows. "My plan?"

I nodded. "You're trying to enchant the crown with faith magic to turn it into a slave bind." I said. "You want to stop her from blocking the spells targeting England."

He smiled, impressed. "And how did you come to this conclusion?"

I considered the question for a moment, but didn't answer it, instead turning back on myself for a moment. "What I don't understand is why faith magic?" I asked. He cocked his head to the side, as if he didn't understand the question. "You could have drugged up some of shaun's college friends, set off an orgy and powered your spell with lust, or you could have brought sacrifices and used their death curses… why faith?"

He nodded, opening his mouth with a little 'ah' as he understood. "Yes, well my reasons are threefold."

"Grandfather, you waste time." Shaun interrupted.

The elder warlock turned on his grandson. "_Callibrum._" He rumbled. A quick burst of wind knocked him from his feet, sending him sprawling to the floor. "Interrupt me again and I will not hesitate to kill you."

The boy opened his mouth to argue, but deflated. "Yes Grandfather." He said, standing up.

The elder nodded and returned to me. "First, I could not use another type of magic, I would have had to create the magic here, or else take the crown with me, and that was a risk I would not take. I couldn't kill people for the spell, nor could I have an orgy here. It would leave too much evidence, too many trails that might have found their way back to me."

"Second, the magic was here, for the taking. I need only access it, a practically limitless source ready for my uses." He paced as he spoke, not unlike Mars. "And third… The queen is protected by a very powerful magical shield. It was created at the dawn of England by a very powerful Wizard. He used the faith that people had in their monarch to create it and powered it with the faith that the people had in the country." He turned away from me and looked around at the building. "I needed to use that same faith to bypass the Queens defences."

"But you're not using the faith in the queen-"

"Same faith different focus." He said, turning back to me and waving a dismissive hand. "You know all those ridiculous gangs of England loving racists? The hate groups that wear the cross of the English flag like it means something anymore?" I nodded. "They power the shield now. The protection has grown weak and given me an opportunity to strike."

"But why would you want to destroy England?" I asked.

He chuckled. "You're thinking too small, boy. I'm not going just destroying Britain. What do you think would happen if over a thousand dark spells impacted on this tiny little island?"

"They'd destroy it…" I said, frowning.

"The first couple, yes. But what about the rest? Still over a thousand spells directed at the planet."

I took in a sharp breath, eyes widening. He meant to destroy the world… "But you'd be dead… What could you possibly gain?"

"You mean other than enough fear and death magic to be able to ascend and take my rightful place as a god?" He asked, somehow puffing up. "I'll be rid of the white council for one thing." He grumbled, shaking his head.

I frowned up at him. "I won't let you have the crown." I told him.

"My dear boy, you don't have a choice." He responded. There was a click and I felt my shield come tumbling down. My eyes widened and he breathed out, relaxing. "Ah." He said.

I realised what had happened a moment too late; he'd been stalling me, keeping my concentration while his magic worked its way through my shield, finding all of its weak points and then in one burst, disengaged it.

I raised my arm and tried to pour the magic back into the shield, but nothing happened. I could feel the old wizards magic all over my shield bracelet now, stopping me from re-applying it. "It is a great shame that I have to kill you boy, I quite like you." He said. "I would offer you the chance to join me, however I can see that it's not a choice you'd willingly take." He raised his hand to me. "The crown."

I looked between him and his family, gripping the crown tightly. I shook my head and he sighed. "Then you leave me no choice." He raised his blasting rod and opened his mouth to kill me.

Without thinking I threw words at him in an attempt to slow him down. "Your son and grandson will turn on you." I said.

He stopped before speaking and looked down at me. He shook his head, "Family means something, even to us Warlocks, boy."

"They were going to cast the enchantment without you." I continued. "Your grandson thinks you're a paranoid old fool, that he and his father could best you."

"He's lying." Shaun said, glaring at me.

"I'm not." I responded. "Ask your werewolf. They think themselves your superior."

He narrowed his eyes at me for a moment before turning to the Hexenwolf. "Is it true?" He asked, noting the wolf-man's defensive posture for the first time. "Cain. Speak."

The hexenwolf's eyes darted between me and his brother. "It is-"

"You're not going to listen to this boy, are you grandfather?" Shaun growled, gripping his blasting rod. "Let us just kill him and be done with this." He raised the rod. "_Corporo!_" He rumbled, one of the latin words for Kill.

Fire leapt from the end of his rod, but the elder warlock growled, "_Callibrum!_" a gust of wind lanced through the fire, dispelling it and the old Warlock stood between the two of them and myself. "Try to kill him without my permission again and I will make sure that you never use magic again, Boy."

"Grandfather, this is foolish. We do not have time to argue." Shaun said, lowering his rod slightly.

"Shaun." His father rumbled, stepping forward and placing a hand on the youngest Warlock's shoulder. The boy stepped back and the middle-aged warlock took his place. "Father. He implied that there's another coming." The warlock said. "He's trying to stall you until the other can arrive."

"I'm not!" I lied. "They were about to start enchanting when I took the crown."

He turned to me. "Is someone else coming?" He asked. I opened my mouth to lie, but decided against it. "Yes."

"You see, Grandfather?"

"Who?" the eldest responded.

"Mars, wizard of the White Council." Came a familiar voice from the doorway.

Everyone turned to find Mars stood there in a long grey coat with his wizards staff held in front of him for protection and his blasting rod pointed at the oldest wizard. "Mars!" I exclaimed, relief washing through me, slackening every tense muscle in my body- which it turns out was all of them.

"You should have teleported home, Alex." He said before turning to the others. "Perhaps you'd like to test your skills on someone who's left legally required education." He offered.

The eldest warlock turned to the others and nodded. The hexenwolf transformed into it's wolf form and they attacked. I looked up to watch them but found my view obscured. The eldest Warlock stepped in front of me, looking down at me. "Look into my eyes, boy." He said. I looked up at him, but focussed on his nose. I didn't want to soul gaze him, that kind of thing stayed with you, and I didn't at all like the idea of his soul mixing with mine.

"Look. Into. My. Eyes." He growled, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck and lifting me up to my full height. He pulled a knife from his inside pocket and held it to my throat. "I will not hesitate." He assured me.

I took a breath and looked up into his eyes and he looked into mine.

There was a strange lurching sensation as I was dragged into his soul, glaring deep at it. There's no real way to describe someone's soul, no words I used would do justice to the complexity of the person's entire nature.

As close as I could describe it, the Warlock's soul was empty. It was very well organised, neat and tidy, like a roman building with lots of white marble columns and perfectly angled shapes, but nothing else, except upside down pentagrams all over the walls.

It felt so cold. So lonely. I could feel how he desperately clung to his family, though he felt nothing for them he wanted to. I felt how he wanted nothing more than to feel something for another person, how he hoped with every move he made that he'd find a way to love, even to like.

I almost started to weep I felt so alone within his soul, and then it was done. I found myself back in the exhibit as pieces of wall rained down on me.

The Warlock looked down at me with a mixture of shock, awe and interest. "Curious…" he said. I have no idea what he saw when he looked into my soul, looking in a mirror doesn't work the same way as looking into someone else's eyes, so I was just as interested as his reaction to my soul as he was in my soul itself. "Very curious. You said that my family planned on betraying me?" I nodded. "I believe you." He said.

"I am willing to make a deal with you here, boy." I looked up at the old man as he turned back to me. "Give me your first name and I will leave. I will take my wolf and go."

I frowned. "No." I said, shaking my head.

"If I enter this fight, boy, Mars and you will both die."

"They'll still be here." I said. "I'll probably die anyway." He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "Help me defeat them and I'll give it to you." He frowned at me and nodded. "Alex." I told him. "Alexander." I clarified.

He narrowed his eyes at me and mouthed the word, before nodding. He looked around at his sons and grandson. "Cain." He said. The hexenwolf had just landed heavily against a nearby wall. It looked up at the old man and nodded. "We're leaving." It turned to the others. "No. If they survive this they can find us."

The wolf nodded and straightened up.

The Man walked confidently towards the door, staff and rod in hand just in case. As he moved the fight came clear to me. Mars wasn't doing too well. He blocked and deflected as best he could but there were too many of them. They attacked too quickly, never letting up.

An attack struck Mars' arm and sent him spinning backwards. He landed hard but raised his shield again with his working arm, powering it with his wizard staff and shield bracelet.

I looked up at the old Warlock as he reached the door. "You promised your help." I shouted. He looked at his people and then at me and nodded. He raised his blasting rod and threw it. The weapon soared across the room, behind the two Warlocks and landed with a clatter on the floor, rolling towards me.

My eyes widened and I looked up at the doorway. The man and his wolf were gone. I turned to Mars again just as their combined attacks slammed him back, obliterating his shield. "Kill him." The father growled.

"NO!" I shouted, grabbing the blasting rod and leaping to my feet. I pointed the rod and screamed the word '_ettocuhetts_' from Pictish. Again, no idea what it means, but that's magic for you.

I vaguely remember seeing Mars call out to me, his lips looked like the word stop was being shouted, but I didn't. I reached inside for all my power. I don't even know what I touched. Will? Faith? All the good things that Mars had told me to use? No. They weren't strong enough.

The two warlocks were slammed back against the wall. Their heads cracked loudly against the wall and then they fell to the floor. I took in a deep breath and dropped the rod, suddenly weak. I staggered backwards and then down to one knee, breathing hard.

I looked up at the two Warlocks and Mars. The Wizard got unsteadily to his feet and stumbled to the others. He fell down at their side and pressed his fingers to their throats. He bowed his head and cursed, reaching up and drawing their eyes closed.

A shiver ran down my spine and he looked up at me.

"Dead." He said. "What have you done…" he sighed, shaking his head. "What Have You Done!" He shouted. He grabbed my coat in silence and pulled me to my feet, dragging me from the building before anything further happened.


End file.
